


nothing beautiful

by empresseokjin (polymerase)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Children, Don't be afraid of the character death it's not a big thing, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Written backwards, domestic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6761392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polymerase/pseuds/empresseokjin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“i think nothing beautiful comes without a fight,<br/>of course, there’s no exception in us.”</p><p>a study in the years passing, from end to beginning. </p><p>(already gone / wild rivers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> I know there are probably quite a few incorrect facts in this, considering I have little to no understanding of childbirth, gay marriage laws/recognition in other countries, adoption in Korea, and the Korean military service. But I did as much research as I could and the rest of it I flubbed a little to make it fit. Please don't ask what years this is set in because I just threw it into a timeline and let it happen. I put their ages for each section at the end to help piece together when each event is. And another note - as I only barely grasp the concept of Korean age, every age referenced is in the way I know to calculate it: you gain another year on your age when you reach the day you were born.
> 
> Writing this way was very much an experiment for me, and it was an exercise in stretching my writing out and trying new things. I had a little fun in changing up the way I wrote the sections (e.g. letters while they’re in the army, disconnected snippets when they’re newlyweds, etc.) and I began to write differently the longer the fic got. So I hope you enjoy reading as much I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> A mix of songs I listened to while writing: http://8tracks.com/taehyunged/nothing-beautiful (more for the sound of them than the lyrics, but some of the songs go so well.)
> 
> This is completely un-betaed and barely proofread, to be honest I'm posting this and I basically JUST finished it, so. Please forgive any mistakes!

The heart monitor finally relaxed, its irregular ups and downs falling into one flat line. A clock on the wall lazily flicked its hands around, declaring it to be 4:40 in the afternoon. The doctor let out a long breath, eyes fluttering closed, before marking down the time onto his chart. The man in the chair by the door hiccupped a sob, shoulders shaking. A slightly older woman held his hand and tears streamed down her round face. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Dr. Jung said, head bowed, before leaving the siblings to their grief and mourning. Their father had been a good man.

Once the door clicked shut, Chan began to openly cry, breath catching in his throat. The raw pain was in no way muffled when he buried his head in his hands. The woman let go of his hand and walked to the bed, picking up her father’s fingers. Carefully, she slipped his wedding ring off and held it to her cheek, recalling all it had seen in her life and before. With a quiet grace, Minghao leant down and kissed her father’s forehead. 

“Sleep well, Appa. I love you.”

Outside the room, the doctor bent his head in a quiet prayer before handing the chart to a nurse and washing his hands. Other patients were waiting. The nurse hurried off to make the appropriate calls. The file in her hand read _Kwon Soonyoung_. 

~

Soonyoung sat on the couch, on the left, because Junhui always sat on the right. His eyes were filled with both the pain of memory and the pain of the cancer, eating away at his pancreas and his lungs. 

Dr. Jung had told him that morning about how serious it was. Months to live, Soonyoung-ssi, if you’re lucky, he had said. Soonyoung had stood up, bowed in thanks, feeling the bile in his stomach rise, and left. He made it to the car before he broke down. It had been seven hours since he heard, and he’d spent all seven of those working up the courage to call his children.

He spent a quiet few minutes rifling through old pictures, yellowing on their white polaroid edges. Wrinkled, shaking fingers brushed the slick surface of wedding photos, his children smiling brightly into the lens, his own face with his eyes locked onto a spot above the camera, Junhui caught mid-giggle, face loose and unguarded. Soonyoung carefully shut the album cover and breathed deeply. 

One hand still on the photo album he had unearthed from the attic, he dialed his daughter’s number. “Minghao,” he said softly, after asking about her boyfriend and her work, after smiling with the relief and joy that his baby girl would be alright, “I went to the doctor this morning.” 

Minghao’s voice rang tinny and stuffed through the phone, another reminder that he was in Korea and she was across the ocean, braving the world. “Appa, I’m coming home, okay? I’m coming home.” 

Soonyoung didn’t reply. He simply closed his eyes and rubbed a thumb over his wedding band, sitting clean and solid on his left hand, even after forty-eight years, a peaceful smile resting on his lips. 

~

The funeral was attended by everyone Junhui had ever met and loved, and the seats were packed. Soonyoung drank them all in, his face displaying an odd combination of contentment and undiluted heartbreak. His husband’s life had not been in vain, and he had seen Junhui make a mark on all these people and more. 

He tried not to let his voice crack as he spoke, hands shaking on the podium in front of him. “I met Junhui forty-five years ago…” Soonyoung hears Chan holding back his tears from the front row, and takes a deep, steadying breath. “I had a whole speech prepared, but I can’t really read it right now, and Junhui probably would have found it too composed,” he chuckles. The attendees laugh politely in agreement. Junhui had been one for spontaneity and making a mess. 

“Junhui was the man that made everything stick together. He was bright and bold and never failed to make me laugh. Everyone he met remembers him as the funny guy, or the dancer, and even his students have called me, telling me fond stories about the shit he pulled in his lectures,” Soonyoung says, smiling. “But what I hope lives on most about Junhui is more than his jokes or his smile. I hope that his strength is carried on, by everyone whose life he touched. I see it in my children, in his friends, and I know that his memory won’t be forgotten so easily.” He opened his mouth to say more, but what came out was a raspy breath. Instead, he maneouvered his way back down the steps of the stage to his seat between Minghao and Chan. 

When they lowered the casket into the ground, Soonyoung held tightly to his umbrella and his daughter’s hand and cried. 

~

“Soonyoung. I’m ready to go, baby. It’s going to be alright,” Junhui whispered, lungs constricted by the layers of tubes and gauze covering his chest. Soonyoung gripped his hand tighter. 

“I’m not letting you go, stupid. You’re going to get better, and you’ll come home, and we’ll fly to California to see Chan, and we’ll watch the sunset, and, and, God, Junhui, don’t leave me alone,” Soonyoung begged, holding his husband’s hand to his face. “I can’t _do_ this without you.” 

“Look at me, Soonyoung.” Stubbornly, Soonyoung kept his head tucked against Junhui’s arm. At the age of 61, he was no less hard headed than he was at 16. “Baby, please look at me.” Finally, he lifted his head and met Junhui’s gaze, eyes filled with fondness, no regret to be seen. “I love you more than I ever knew possible. That won’t stop just because I’m not here anymore. Do you understand what I’m saying? You will never be alone, Soonyoung.” 

He passed away quietly that night, succumbing to the trauma of a drunk driver, to someone’s careless mistake that would never have the same repercussions for them as it did for Soonyoung and his family. 

~

“Say hi to Grandpa Soonyoung, Younghee,” Chan cooed, waving the baby’s fat hand at the camera. Soonyoung smiles broadly at the screen of his laptop. 

“She’s beautiful, Chan,” he said, staring at his granddaughter’s bright grin, at the hair bow resting on her fat brown curls, at her miniscule fingers and toes. “Definitely cuter than you were when you were a baby.” 

“Hey now,” his son complained jokingly. “that’s not fair. At least I was cuter than Minghao.” 

Minghao scoffed from her place at her father’s shoulder. “You wish, little brother. You fu- freaking wish.” Soonyoung smirked at her censorship, but Chan smiled at her gratefully, because Younghee’s aunt was a bad influence, even when she’s more than nine thousand kilometers away. “Bà!” she yelled, getting Junhui’s attention from the kitchen. “Was I or was I not cuter than Chan when I was a baby?” 

Junhui wandered over, apron still tied around his waist. Younghee brightened when his face appeared in the camera’s view, clenching and unclenching her fists at the screen. Her grandfather beamed and made the same gesture. “I can’t voice my opinion, because as you are very clearly trying to take advantage of, you are a huge daddy’s girl. It’s not very fair to your brother.” 

Chan made an indignant noise; Minghao crowed triumphantly. “This is blatant favoritism. Appa, back me up here.” 

Soonyoung snorted. “Younghee is cuter than all of you, your bà included.” No one dissented. 

~

Soonyoung hid his tears in Junhui’s shoulder, determined not to let Chan see that he was crying. He had promised he wouldn’t cry, for God’s sake, he’s fifty years old.

“Flight 341 departing from Seoul to LAX, Los Angeles, California, is now boarding,” the intercom blared, and Chan stood up from the hard airport seat, small leather bag in hand. Twenty-two years old is a perfectly acceptable age to leave home. There’s nothing wrong with Chan moving all the way to California to get his master’s degree. This is fine, it’s fine, Soonyoung reminded himself as he gave his son a hug and watched him board the plane. 

“This isn’t fine,” Soonyoung whimpered, the hand not covertly holding Junhui’s still waving out the window, regardless of the fact that Chan probably couldn’t see them anymore. 

Junhui smiled fondly, watching as the plan began to fill up and the pilot prepared for takeoff. “He’s going to be amazing, Soonyoung. He takes after you.” Absentmindedly, his husband batted at his shoulder. 

“He’s adopted, stupid.”

Junhui frowned. “That doesn't mean he can't take after you. We raised him, right? That means he got his example from us. And you work hard, and you taught our children to work just as hard for what they want. He gets his drive and ambition from you.” 

“Who's to say his mother wasn't a law student? What if his biological father was a CEO? They both have drive. Just because we showed them where hard work gets you doesn't mean he wasn't predisposed for it,” Soonyoung said, eyes tracking the plane’s lift-off. 

Junhui always found Soonyoung’s argument for the side of nature to be grating and illogical, and he usually fought right back for nurture. Today, it's just a way to distract his husband from having a minor breakdown. 

“Sure, babe. That makes sense.” 

~

“My baby girl is graduating high school,” Junhui said for the millionth time that day, beaming at their small group of friends. “I've literally never been more proud in my life.” 

The doorbell rang, and Minghao jumped up to get it before anyone else could even move, cutting her eyes around the room nervously. Her shoulders visibly relaxed when she opened the door, and Soonyoung smothered a laugh behind his hand. Junhui elbowed him in the back, fighting a smile as well. 

“It's Uncle Jeonghan!” she called, dress swishing around her knees as she twirled back to the couch. Chan patted her shoulder. 

“Don't be nervous, noona. No one is going to hurt your boyfriend. Well. Maybe a little,” he snickered. “It's not too late to tell him not to come.” 

Wonwoo smirked. “Yeah, just because your dads promised not to bully him doesn't mean the rest of us can't do it for them. What's his name? Han Solo?”

Minghao shot him an ugly glare. “It's Hansol. You know that. But he goes by Vernon.”

Soonyoung had chosen to keep his mouth shut about his daughter's boyfriend, but this new information was too much for him. “He goes by _what?_ ”

“Vernon, appa. It's his stage name. He's going to be a famous rapper someday,” Minghao said hotly, bouncing in place. 

“Vernon Appa is a terrible stage name,” Jeonghan commented mildly from the front hall, kicking off his shoes. “I wouldn't buy an album from someone named Vernon Appa.” 

“You're all dead to me.” 

“Aw, don't be like that, unnie. You wouldn't know what to do with all of us.” 

“Oh, believe me, I know what I’d do without all of you. It's called _live_.” 

Mingyu snorted. “I see no lie.” 

“Shut up, Mingyu. You're the worst out of all of us,” Junhui laughed, spotting a car he didn't recognize pull up in the drive. Casually, he picked up the empty beer bottles from the table and headed toward the kitchen. Minghao remained oblivious, picking up speed in her argument with Wonwoo about the proper use of the “shots fired” meme. 

He opened the door before the bell could ring, revealing a wide-eyed teenage boy with a hand suspended in the air. “You must be Vernon.” 

The boy looked even more startled, if such a thing was possible. It was becoming more and more difficult for Junhui not to burst into laughter right in the poor child's face. 

“Bā, leave him alone!” Minghao screeched, skidding into the hall. Junhui turned to face her, grinning.

“Minghao, I've said a total of four words to him. Please relax,” he said, smile stretching when she gave him a look. He blinked innocently at his daughter, who stared back with an unholy look in her eye. 

Junhui nearly made it without breaking down, until he saw his husband trying his damndest to keep it in, hands covering his mouth and shoulders shaking. Minghao wouldn’t speak to them for the rest of the night. 

 

~

Junhui threw open the door of the house, uncaring of the level of noise he made. Startled, Soonyoung woke up, sitting straight up in bed. He had only fallen asleep twenty minutes before, and he wearily rubbed the sleep out of his expression. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy. Blearily, he dragged himself out of bed and into the living room, where Junhui stood, muttering angrily. “Babe, what's wrong?” 

“What's wrong? Really? You've been home all day and this room still looks like a mess. I don't know when the last time someone vacuumed this carpet was, and I certainly don't remember when someone other than me did it. I swear to God, no one fucking lifts a finger besides me-” 

“Junhui. Please lower your voice,” Soonyoung whispers, rubbing his temples. 

Junhui threw his bag down onto the couch. “No! You don't make the kids clean up their messes, and I can't keep coming home over lunch to clean up and then go back and then come home and cook and do everything! Do you ever help the kids with their homework? Nope! It's all me!” 

Angrily, Soonyoung gestured towards the back of the house with his whole arm. “Did you even bother to look anywhere else? I've been cleaning this whole fucking house from the bottom up, Junhui, since I haven't been able to sleep! I finally, _finally_ , felt tired after not sleeping for 23 hours because my deadline was last night, if you'll remember, and then I wake up after 20 minutes to you banging into the house. So excuse me, I’m going to go back to bed so I can be awake for our children when they come home from school.” 

He stomped out of the room, feeling both vindicated and a bit like a child, leaving Junhui staring. He yawned in exhaustion and slid back under the blanket, but sleep evaded him. He was still staring at the ceiling when he felt his husband sit on the bed. 

“Baby? Are you awake?” Junhui asked softly, hand hesitating between brushing Soonyoung’s hair back and tucking it behind his back. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I'm awake.” 

“I'm sorry, Soonyoungie, I wasn't thinking and I'm stressed because this asshole in editing lost all my drafts and this morning has been rough and- I’m just sorry. I shouldn't have taken it out on you,” Junhui said, finally deciding on using his hand to fiddle with his ring. 

Soonyoung rolled over and pulled on Junhui’s arm until he laid beside him. The blonde shifted his head until it rested on his chest, and he pulled the covers up over them both. 

“I forgive you, Junnie. I’m sorry too, for snapping back.” He waited a second and let the tension in the air seep away. “Alright, fight over,” Soonyoung grinned, looking up at Junhui. “Call in sick for the rest of the afternoon and take a nap with me. The kids won't be home for another… Three hours I think.” 

“That sounds perfect.”

~

Junhui anxiously paced the floor in front of the bed, tapping his fingers against his thighs agitatedly. Soonyoung watched him between paragraphs, fingertips intermittently tapping on the keyboard. “Junnie, calm down. It’s school. She’s not joining the mafia.” 

“She could! It’s been years since we were her age. Who knows what elementary kids are doing these days?” 

Soonyoung inhaled deeply to collect himself. He’s a good husband, and he wouldn’t ever laugh when Junhui is in such distress. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

“I just… don’t want her to be hurt.” 

The look in Junhui’s eyes is enough for Soonyoung to save his article and set the laptop aside, deadline be damned. He thinks back to when they were still dating, when Junhui opened up about being bullied and teased for being Chinese, adopted, gay. 

“She’s going to be okay, Junhui. Minghao is a kickass little girl. She’s our daughter, isn’t she? She’s not going to take any shit. Now please come to bed. My mother will kill me if I let you wear out the antique rug with your incessant stress-pacing.” 

Junhui sat on the edge of the bed petulantly, and Soonyoung crawled over to lay his head on his back. “I know she's your baby girl. But I promise you, she'll be alright.” 

Later that night, Soonyoung didn't say anything when he woke up to Junhui getting back into bed. He just rolled over and made room for Minghao under the blanket. 

“Hold it together,” Soonyoung whispered through the car window the next morning, hitting Junhui with his sternest look. 

Junhui looked mildly offended. “I've got it. I'm just dropping her off at school, not sacrificing her to the gods,” he replied, scathingly mimicking Soonyoung’s words from the night before. 

Soonyoung flashed him a bright smile. “That's the spirit! Have a good day, my little Hao. Don't beat up any boys too badly,” he said with a wink, making his daughter grin. 

“As long as they don't mess with me,” she said seriously. Soonyoung reached through the window, past his husband, and gave Minghao a high five. 

When Junhui walked back through the door, Soonyoung wordlessly threw him a box of tissues, eyes still focused on his book. He definitely didn't smirk when Junhui wiped tears from his cheeks. 

“Shut up, Kwon Soonyoung.” 

So maybe he smirked. 

~

They really didn't mean to adopt another baby. It was a thought, a mere idea of an idea, to have a second child. 

But then they met Chan. 

“He's been here basically since he was born,” the matron said, bouncing the stoic baby in her arms as Soonyoung and Junhui stared, transfixed. “His dad was an older man and his mother was around 20 or 21, too young to have a baby. One day, she dropped him off and never came back.” 

Soonyoung smiled down at Chan, wiggling his fingers. “Hey there, baby. How are you doing today?” Chan stared silently up at him, no hint of expression or feeling. Soonyoung looked up at the matron with a panicked look. “Why is he so quiet?” 

She frowned. “Like I said, he's been here for his whole life. We do what we can, but with so many children, it's impossible to give them the attention and love that they need. It sounds horrible, but that's the truth about institutions like this. This can cause a lot of reactions, from extreme clinginess to avoidance.” She sighed sadly. “But Chan is one of the children that goes the opposite direction,” she continues, softly running her hand over his head. “He’s shut down, and is mainly unresponsive to affection and people.” 

Junhui’s heart shattered. 

Soonyoung made a heartbroken noise in his throat and reached out to the baby. To everyone's surprise, Chan sat motionless for a second before unfolding his chubby arms and holding them out in Soonyoung’s direction. Eyes crinkling in delight, Soonyoung took Chan from the matron and cuddled him close. He cooed softly, and Junhui watched as a baby labelled as emotionless and unloving began to smile. 

Junhui fixed the matron with a hard stare, already knowing in his gut that Chan would be a part of their family sooner than later. “The fact that we’re… of an alternate lifestyle… is it an issue?” 

She smiled at him, unflinching in the face of his cold exterior. “If you will care for him, and love him, and raise him to be a good person, then what does it matter?” Junhui looked at her for another moment and then gave her a nod, relief written plainly on his face. 

“Soonyoungie, Minghao is waiting at home. We can come back tomorrow,” he said, hand resting on Soonyoung’s back. With a small frown, the blonde reluctantly laid the baby back down in the matron’s arms. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Chan, I promise,” Soonyoung said, a fierce look in his eyes. Junhui took his hand and said goodbye to the matron, who gave them a knowing and hopeful look. 

“Junhui,” Soonyoung said, buckling his seatbelt. “We have to adopt Chan.” 

Junhui sighed, but he was smiling. “I know.” 

~

“Maybe we shouldn't go,” Soonyoung said, glancing at the baby’s crib in the corner of the room. Minghao slept soundly, snuffling softly and clutching her stuffed tiger. Junhui nodded, pleased to hear Soonyoung’s trepidation. From the beginning he had fought for the idea of just staying in and watching Netflix. 

Jeonghan frowned stormily at them. “You have been overworked for the past year. Your eye circles are so dark that I would swear to God you're both prize fighters. You need a night to relax without having to worry about taking care of Minghao.” 

With a smile, Jisoo handed them their coats. They unconsciously slipped them on, still voicing their unhappiness. “Seriously, guys, you can just go home. We’ll be fine, now that she's started sleeping through the night. We don't need a date or anything,” Junhui argued, unaware of Jisoo opening the door behind them. 

Quickly, Jeonghan pushed Soonyoung and Junhui out the door and shut it. “We’ll be fine!” he hollered. “Minghao and I are friends. Nothing is going to happen, I swear.” 

Soonyoung banged on his own front door with a fist. “Don't forget to put the leftover food back in the fridge! And don't do anything 19 plus in front of our child!” 

Jisoo opened the door and stuck his head out. “I promise to keep it in my pants in front of your baby. Now, for the love of God, _please_ go on a date.” 

With a slumped, defeated look about them, the couple gave up and headed towards the elevator. “Where do you want to go?” Soonyoung asked, pressing the down button. 

“Back to the apartment,” Junhui said miserably, and his husband sighed in tired agreement. They shivered in unison as the cold winter air hit them from the doorway of the building.

By a silent, unspoken agreement, they passed by restaurants and theaters, ignored vendors and the shops they might have frequented a year ago. The streets of Seoul seemed dull and boring in their bleary eyes, and nothing appealed. 

“Hey, it's the noraebang where we went on our first date,” Soonyoung snorted. “God, I can't believe it's still open. That was…” he stopped and counted on his fingers. “Eleven years ago. Holy shit.” 

Junhui looked over at him in surprise. “Eleven years? No way.” 

Soonyoung counted it again. “We met when we were sixteen, we’re 27 now… oh my god, we’re old.” 

“If 27 is our old age, we’ll be dead and buried in the countryside before Minghao can even do multiplication,” Junhui laughed. “You don't look a day over 25, my love.” 

“Ugh, so greasy,” Soonyoung giggled, slapping his shoulder. 

Junhui pinned him with an appraising look. “What's greasy is remembering where we had our first date after eleven years.” 

The blonde glared half-heartedly. “It's not greasy, it's _romantic_ , something you don't understand.” 

“Oh, I understand romance perfectly fine. I just don't use it very often because the nuances are usually lost on you, Mr. Oblivious.” 

“Me? _Oblivious?_ ”

“Soonyoung, I had to literally spell it out that I liked you because every single bit of my flirting went right over your head.” 

“Ah, well.” Soonyoung paused, looking thoughtful. “You think they still have Girl’s Generation on the machine?” 

Jisoo and Jeonghan laid cuddled on the couch, a variety show playing quietly on the television, when the apartment door opened with a loud slam. Jisoo immediately checked to see if it had woken Minghao before hissing at her parents to shut the heck up. 

“Sorry,” Junhui whispered, or tried to whisper. It came out as more of a quiet shout. “We got kicked out of noraebang.” 

Soonyoung nodded from Junhui’s shoulders, where he was perched. “Apparently, getting drunk and making out in the room is frowned upon.” He made an ugly face and shook his head. “It's a sad world when two men are kicked out for putting their tongues in each other's mouths.” 

Jeonghan choked on his breath. 

“Time for bed, boys,” Jisoo laughed, ushering Junhui and his cargo into the back of the house. Jeonghan fussed with Minghao’s baby monitor, making sure it was on, and double checked that they really had put the leftover food back in the fridge. “Hey, let's go,” he heard Jisoo whisper, and he flicked off the kitchen lights. 

“What happened?” 

“Junhui dropped Soonyoung on the bed, fell half on top of him, and they both passed the heck out,” Jisoo said, holding his hand out to hail a cab. 

Jeonghan snorted. “Good. They need the sleep.”

Of course, the young parents didn't see it like that, and cursed their friends’ names as they downed pain pills and glasses of water to nurse their headaches, but that's another issue entirely. 

~

“Oh my god, Junhui, wake the fuck up,” Soonyoung said, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear and vigorously shaking his husband. “It's happening.” 

Junhui rubbed his eyes wearily, sleep still prevailing. “What's happening? The apocalypse?” 

Soonyoung stood up on the bed and kicked his side before hopping out to hurriedly change into a semblance of an acceptable outfit. “No, idiot, they're taking Soojung to the hospital as we speak. Our daughter is being born.” 

Junhui sat straight up before flinging the blankets away. In his rush, his feet tangled in the sheets and he fell flat on his face onto the hardwood. “Fuck.” 

“We’ll be right there, Soojung, we’re leaving right now. And we don't care if you get the epidural, if you need it, Soojung, you're literally birthing a human, I have no idea why we even brought natural birth up. You do you, okay?” 

“No drugs,” Junhui whined, still on the floor, and Soonyoung kicked him again. 

“I don't see you pushing a live baby out of your vagina, Wen Junhui, so shut your mouth. Hurry up!” 

Soonyoung crammed his bare feet into a pair of loafers and threw a rain jacket over his old uni sweatshirt. Junhui looked at his sweats and ratty tee, shrugged, and pulled on a pair of sneakers and the closest jacket, which happened to be his peacoat. By the time he made it out of the room, Soonyoung was already hailing a cab. 

“Yah, grab my shit!” the blonde screamed from the street, still holding his phone to his face. “No, eomma, not you…” 

Junhui looked around the room wildly before spotting Soonyoung’s wallet and keys. He grabbed them and ran out the door, pulling it shut and stabbing keys into the lock at random. Finally, the key to the door slipped in and he locked it. Soonyoung stared at him from the cab, face pressed against the window. “Took you long enough,” he mouthed as Junhui approached. 

He flipped him a gesture that was inappropriate for a new parent to be making. Soonyoung wrinkled his nose in reply. The cab driver looked at them in the rear view mirror appraisingly. “Someone’s baby being born?” 

Junhui smiled proudly. “Yeah, something like that.” 

Soojung gave them a flat look when they burst into the hospital room, a nurse following them closely and pleading for them to slow down. “Will you two calm the fuck down?” 

Soonyoung beamed at her. “Hi, Soojung-ah!” 

“Morning, oppa,” she greeted him, voice dry. The clock by her bed read 3:09 AM. 

Junhui pulled one of the wooden chairs resting by the wall up close to the bed. “How are you feeling?” She shrugged, wincing slightly as another contraction hit. 

“I've been better.” 

The doctor, who had been prepping a needle on the other side of the bed, smiled at them. “It won't be too much longer, now. Soojung-ssi is going to have an easy labor, it looks like.” 

Junhui moved out of the way as a nurse positioned herself between Soojung’s knees. “Alright, it looks like you're almost completely dilated. Are you ready to push?” 

Soonyoung smirked as Junhui’s face began to take on a green tint. “Go sit outside. Soojung-ah will be just fine.” Junhui was close to declining when Soojung started pushing. At the first sound, he spun on his heel and quickly left the room. As he left, he heard Soojung laugh. 

“What a pussy,” she panted, gripping tightly onto Soonyoung’s fingers. 

“Right?” 

At 4:21 in the morning, Wen Minghao was born. 

Soojung slept soundlessly in the hospital bed, hair plastered to the back of her neck. Minghao cried softly in the arms of her parents, who cradled her together, foreheads touching. 

“I hope we’re ready for this,” Junhui whispered into the still air of the room. Soonyoung smiled and nudged their noses together. 

“We’ll figure it out.” 

~

Junhui inhaled deeply, holding the phone with one hand and pressing the fingers of the other to the bridge of his nose. “Hi, Māmā.” 

“Junhui. It's been a while since we've talked.” 

He laughed humorlessly. “That's what happens when you don't support your children in literally anything. They tend to not want to talk to you.” 

“Stop this nonsense, Junhui. Come back home. It's not too late to go back to school, and you can still take over the business.” 

Soonyoung came in the front door, mouth open to announce his arrival, but he took one look at his husband’s face and immediately closed it. Junhui’s expression read plainly of irritation and anger. 

“I don't think you understand what I mean when I say I'm married and working in Korea. It means that I'm legally married, to another man, and I am a journalist for an education magazine. Here. In the Republic of Korea. Is any of this getting through to you?” he asked, tone calm but words seething. 

His mother made a low, disgusted noise in her throat. Junhui snapped. 

“I have spent the last nine years of my life in love with Kwon Soonyoung, and it has been nine years since I gave a shit about your opinion,” Junhui hissed, furious. “Time and time again, I have tried to understand why you refuse to accept me, but to be honest with you, I have stopped caring.” 

His mother was silent on the other side of the line. Soonyoung grabbed onto Junhui’s hand and squeezed his shaking fingers gently. 

“We’re having a child, Māmā. A little girl. We’re going to name her Minghao, and she's going to be beautiful and she will be loved and supported. So thank you for teaching me how not to be a parent.” 

“Junhui-” 

“Don't call me again.” He furiously stabbed the end call button and threw his phone onto the armchair across the room. 

Junhui expected Soonyoung to ask him if he was okay, or to offer some modicum of comfort. Instead, Soonyoung picked up his own phone and dialed his mother. 

“Eomma!” he crowed, putting it on speaker when she picked up. “Junhui is here too, you're on speaker.” 

“Ah! My sons called me out of nowhere. Are you boys out of money or something?” 

Junhui’s ice-cold expression began to crack. “Eommaaaaa,” Soonyoung whined. “We can't just call you when we feel like it?” 

She laughed, and Junhui was reminded of where Soonyoung got his own unique giggle. “I'm onto you two, don't think you're getting away with anything.” 

The brunet closed his eyes and let his mother-in-law’s words wash over him, the simplicity of a mother’s love for her son making his heart clench. 

“Okay, eomma, okay. We’ll call you more often, I promise…. No, we’re not out of money, I swear to you that we just wanted to hear your lovely voice. I love you too.” 

A single tear slipped down Junhui’s cheek as he said his goodbyes. 

Soonyoung hung up the phone and took Junhui’s face in his hands. “You are not your parents. You don't need your parents, either. You are going to be an amazing father to our daughter, and there are people who love you. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

~

The air in their bedroom was almost oppressively hot, and they had kicked all the blankets off the bed, but it didn't stop them from laying as close as possible to each other. 

“Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe. B-” 

“What, Soonyoung?” 

“Have you ever thought about having kids?” 

Junhui almost froze in surprise, but kept tracing patterns on Soonyoung’s back. “Sometimes. Why?” 

“I met this girl on the bus today, and she was crying, right, and so I kind of moved over and asked her what was wrong because I cannot stand when people cry, it makes me want to cry, like that one time that the little girl fell off the swing-” 

“Get on with it, already.” 

“Well, she had just come back from her first doctor’s appointment for her pregnancy, but she really doesn’t want the baby because she’s just starting uni and the father is an older man who I guess is a total dick, but long story short, I told her we’ve been thinking about starting a family-” 

“We really haven’t been-”

“And she gave me her number and told me to call her if we decide that we want a baby,” Soonyoung finished in one breath, determined to get it all out before he was interrupted. His husband sat silent, eyes flickering over his face as if seeing him for the first time. “I know it’s a big thing-” 

Junhui held up a hand, and Soonyoung fell quiet. After what felt to Soonyoung like hours, Junhui said, “It’s a huge thing. And there’s things to talk about before we even consider calling this girl. And we definitely need to talk about saying untrue things without consulting each other.” Soonyoung flushed. “A baby, huh?” 

A beaming smile spread across the blonde’s face. 

Two weeks later, they're sitting in a small chain cafe, nursing cups of tea, cowering in the face of a small 21 year old girl. Her tiny frame did nothing to dwarf her attitude. 

“What makes you think you'll be good parents?” 

Soonyoung laced his fingers with Junhui’s under the table. “We know we’re not going to be perfect parents. We're just married, and we’ve never had a child before, and we’re gay in a society that still hates us.” 

She leveled an unimpressed look at him. “This isn't exactly helping your case.” 

“But,” Soonyoung continued, “we know how to love. The baby will have grandparents that adore them, and aunts and uncles who will spoil them to bits, and two fathers that will go to the ends of the Earth to get they need.” 

Slowly, Soojung’s face spread into a smile. “From the beginning I had a feeling that you two would be a good choice.” Junhui and Soonyoung held each other’s hands tighter. “Even though you're inexperienced as hell.” 

Jeonghan was the first to text them back, about 20 seconds after they sent the news. _someone is letting you keep their baby to raise as your own? who would let children raise other children_

 **Wonwoo** _wow. i owe mingyu 11,000 won. congrats tho._

 **Mingyu** _lmaoooo wonwoo owes me money!!_

 **Jisoo** _Aww, congratulations you guys!! What are you going to name the baby??_

Soonyoung stopped typing. “Junhui, what are we going to name her?” 

“I thought Soojung thinks it's going to be a boy.” 

“It could be, it’s just a feeling I have. I like the name Ju, if the baby is a girl.” 

Junhui looked at him in surprise. “Why a Chinese name?” 

The blonde shrugged, almost self-consciously. “I think it’d be nice for the baby to share some of your culture too. Chinese name from her Chinese bà and a Korean home from her Korean appa.” He blushed when Junhui gave him a warm, adoring look. “What? God.” 

“Ju is too girly for me. What about Minghao? It means good reputation,” Junhui said thoughtfully. “It was my great-grandfather’s name.” 

“Minghao. Wen Minghao,” Soonyoung grinned. “It has a good ring to it.” Suddenly, his head shot up from his phone. “I have to call my parents.” 

~

“Shit! Shit shit shitshitshit,” Soonyoung screeched, startling Junhui awake. “Shit!” 

“What is your _problem?_ ” Junhui groaned, startling at the feel of cool metal on his face when he rubbed his eyes. 

“I stubbed my toe,” his husband, _husband_ , whined. “I just wanted some water.” 

Junhui glared at him. “You are an idiot and I already regret this union.” 

“Don't be like that baby, that's not what you were saying about our union last night, if you know what I mean,” Soonyoung said, winking slowly. Junhui gagged.

“I hope you never make it to the kitchen and you die of dehydration.” 

Soonyoung cackled all the way out of the room. 

_buy more tofu_ was written on the fridge in magnets.  
_no fuck you_ was spelled underneath it. 

Jeonghan refused to sit on the couch for two months after learning what they did on their first night in the apartment. To be fair, he did ask how they broke the place in. 

Their water was shut off three months in a row until Soonyoung landed a job as an economics columnist for the local paper. After that, it was only turned off when they forgot to pay the stupid bill. 

“Soonyoung! Come help me!” Junhui yelled, kicking the door to the apartment. His arms were full of groceries, and it was all he could do not to drop them. Before he could kick it again, the door flew open and Soonyoung, looking absolutely wrecked, stood before him. He dropped the bag of ramen onto the ground, wide-eyed. 

“Hurry the fuck up,” Soonyoung sang, before traipsing back to the bedroom. Junhui threw the groceries into the kitchen sink and took off after him. 

 

~

Soonyoung bounced up and down eagerly, standing on his tip toes to try and spot Junhui in the crowd of men climbing off the bus. It had been three long, drawn out months waiting for him to finish his service, and he was ready for it be over, damn it. He was ready to let out a frustrated sigh when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around and came face to face with the love of his life. 

Without a word, he slammed into him, wrapping his arms around Junhui’s torso. “Hey, baby,” Junhui said quietly, hugging him back with the arm not holding his duffel bag. 

“Finally,” Soonyoung whispered. “Finally.” Without warning, Junhui released him and dropped to one knee. Soonyoung felt the bile in his stomach rise. A few of the men around them stopped, staring in both confusion and mild alarm, but most of them ignored the scene, focused on finding their own loved ones. 

“Kwon Soonyoung, we can’t make this a big deal right now, and I need to hurry it up, but I felt like I would be sick if I waited another minute. Will you marry me?” 

“I thought I told you I was done with this poetic shit,” Soonyoung said, eyes filling with tears. His eyes disappeared with the width of his smile. “Of course I’ll marry you. Now get up, you’re making people look at us.” 

People staring be damned, Junhui swept Soonyoung into his arms and kissed him desperately. 

“God,” Soonyoung said, when they broke apart. “Alright, then. Let’s go home.” 

~

“Send letters, like in the movies. It’ll be romantic,” Soonyoung’s mother said. “You’ll be like war brides, except you’ll actually be in the Army.” 

Dear Junhui,  
It's lonely. I'm not going to lie to you. You know me; I always need someone who’ll understand and tolerate my excessive talking. And while I’m not the only one here who talks too much, I’m probably the least liked for it. But I met a guy named Lee Seokmin, and he seems like he doesn’t mind when I blabber on. I like him, even though he kind of looks like a horse.  
It doesn’t look like our furloughs are going to line up, once again. I’m going to go see my mother over this one, since she’s not too far from the base right now. I only have the weekend. Can you believe I got the time off because I decided to salute at a helicopter?  
Stay safe, please.  
Soonyoung. 

Dear Soonyoung,  
I miss hearing you talk. Voicemails left over weekends off don’t really satisfy the craving. I’ll visit your mother over my next furlough, so leave whatever you want to leave with her. I’ll pick them up then.  
You know what I miss most, sometimes? Hot water for coffee. I’m glad our base has indoor plumbing, because Jeonghan was telling me about his brother’s base and how there was barely a soccer pitch to play on. But hot water for coffee, let alone the coffee itself, is such a luxury. At this point I would almost drink straight hot water. It’s the feel of it I miss, rather than the caffeine.  
Ah, I just realized how stupid poetic I sound when I’m writing. I hope you don’t mind the difference. Maybe I’ll just write to you for the rest of our lives instead of opening my mouth.  
Stay safe,  
Junhui. 

Dear Soonyoung,  
It is, of course, our misfortune that our furloughs miss each other by three days. But you’re only two weeks from the end and I’m just about three months away. It’ll be over before we know it.  
Stay safe,  
Junhui.

Dear Junhui,  
I don’t understand your definition of ‘over before you know it’ because I’ve been knowing it for almost two years now and let me tell you, I’m getting tired of it. You still have a month left, and I’m sitting here at home, pining like a little school girl. ~~I don’t care who opens this package~~ Well, you’ll probably be opening it first anyways, since you’re high up enough now.  
I hope you’re not bullying the privates.  
I’m sending you a shit load of these girl cookies Jisoo sent from America, because they’re a literal orgasm in your mouth, okay.  
Fuck your poetic letters, by the way. They make me cry.  
Stay safe, for one more stupid, long month,  
Soonyoung. 

~

“Soonyoungie, we’re going to be late!” Junhui pleaded, shaking his boyfriend’s shoulder vigorously. Soonyoung jerked awake from where he had fallen asleep doing his statistics homework. A worksheet stuck to his cheek and a chunk of his bleached hair was dyed blue at the tip from where it had rested against his open highlighter. 

“Late for what?” he asked blearily, pulling the worksheet away from his face and capping the marker. 

Junhui sighed. “I have reminded you probably a thousand times by now.” He stabbed a finger at the desk calendar, which read GROUP DINNER in large, red Sharpie letters over that day’s date. Soonyoung cursed softly. 

“Yeah, fuck your ass is right. Hurry up and change. You look fine except for the fact that those pants are the pajamas you’ve had since you were 15.” Soonyoung looked down at his Spider-man flannel pants. 

“Haven’t we known these people long enough that it doesn’t really matter what I wear anymore?” 

“I would say yes except for the fact that Seungkwan set Jisoo’s kitchenette on fire and therefore we are going out to dinner.” Soonyoung cursed again; he had forgotten about The Spaghetti Incident. 

With a sigh, he stood up from the desk. “Alright, I’m hurrying.” Junhui kicked him in the butt and he yelped. 

“Hurry faster.” 

The restaurant was cramped and their air was stuffy, smelling of vegetables and the approaching summer’s heat. The young girl manning the front door looked faint as they walked in, but she pushed three tables together and the students squished in close. 

“Jeonghan-hyung, your elbow is crushing my spleen,” Jihoon gasped, trying to wiggle out from under his captor. 

Jeonghan pulled his arm away quickly, saying, “Sorry, Jihoon-ah,” and proceeded to hit Jisoo in the cheekbone. Jisoo startled, splashing his water onto Soonyoung’s lap. The blonde reflexively jerked away from the icy freeze covering his pants, and dug his fingernails into Junhui’s hand as he tried to catch himself from falling over backwards. 

“Son of a-” Junhui yelped, barely censoring his pained exclamation as the waiter approached. 

They managed to give their order without incident, which was a miracle, in Soonyoung’s opinion. When the waiter had left, he leaned over to his boyfriend and whispered, “Now I’m all wet.” 

Jihoon kicked at Junhui under the table when he began to laugh way too loudly for such a small space. “You know you two are disgusting, right?” Seungcheol quickly nodded his agreement, always eager to please his boyfriend. It made Soonyoung feel like he had a cavity. 

“We’re disgusting? How are you going to attack me like this to my face when you literally drove four hours to get Jihoon a special order latte even after he literally bit you for interrupting him in the studio?” Soonyoung demanded. So what he liked to make his boyfriend laugh? At least he had limits, unlike _some people_. 

Jeonghan tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I mean, that’s true, but they use each other’s names in conversation. I can’t remember the last time Junhui called you anything besides babe to your face.” Soonyoung quickly skimmed his memory, making a face when he realized Jeonghan was probably right. 

Seungkwan, seeing a perfect opportunity to mock his hyungs with no immediate repercussions, tacked on, “And he lets you call him honey pie. Hyung, please explain the concept of a pie made of honey and how it’s in any way, shape, or form a cute nickname.” 

Junhui raised an eyebrow at his dongsaeng. “Just because I let him call me that doesn’t mean it’s cute.” Soonyoung’s eyes cut quickly over to his boyfriend. 

“You don’t think it’s cute?” 

After a hesitation, he said, “not really.” Soonyoung’s eyes filled with irritation. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he snipped, turning away from Junhui and frowning angrily at the table. The rest of the men at the table shot surprised looks at each other. They _never_ fight. 

“For this exact reason. I knew you’d get pissed and then you’d ignore me and it’d be all over a stupid nickname, so it was easier to just let it go.” Junhui rolled his eyes at Soonyoung’s noise of derision. Jeonghan cleared his throat awkwardly. The rest of the table sat in uncomfortable silence. 

“Guys,” he started, “it’s not that big of a deal, right?” 

Soonyoung laughed shortly. “Sure, hyung. No big deal.” 

“You seem to think it’s a big deal,” Junhui muttered. His boyfriend glared at him furiously out of the corner of his eye. They fell silent, the atmosphere becoming almost unbearably tense, until the waiter came back with the first plate of food. Soonyoung and Junhui stayed locked into silent fury, but the others nearly melted in relief. 

Slowly, Soonyoung unfroze, anger melting as the group of friends threw jokes back and forth. In the middle of one of his own, Junhui mumbled something, eyebrows furrowed. Soonyoung stopped dead and stood up from the table immediately. “Sorry, you guys, but I’m going home. Don’t worry about me,” he said stiffly. Junhui waited a beat, two, before scrambling up to follow him, throwing a stack of bills on the table as he left. Everyone left around the table tracked him with their eyes, confusion splashed across their expressions. 

Outside, two college students giggled, pleased that their plan to escape dinner had gone off without a hitch. “I wonder what they think you said,” Soonyoung said, swinging their entwined hands back and forth as they wandered back to the bus stop. 

“Probably not _hey, let’s get out of here_ , I’m guessing,” Junhui replied. 

Their phones began to ring with new text messages, over and over. They powered them off and lost themselves in each other. 

~

“I’ll meet you there at six, then? Is that okay?” Soonyoung asked, voice audibly nervous even over the phone. 

“Yeah, that works for me. See you later.” 

“Bye!” Junhui hung up the phone, smiling despite himself. Kwon Soonyoung really was cute as hell. 

Soonyoung clutched his phone to his chest like a lovestruck teenage girl from a drama. He was going on a date with _Wen Junhui_ , for God’s sake. He was allowed a little bit of girlish excitement. 

Despairingly, he cast a glance at his closet. He had no idea what to wear. As if he could read his mind, Wonwoo’s call made Soonyoung’s phone buzz loudly on the bed. 

“I need your help,” he whined as soon as he picked up. 

Wonwoo made an alarmed noise. “He's already asking about butt stuff?” 

“ _Excuse me?”_

“Nothing, never mind. So he said yes, then?” Wonwoo said, laughing uncomfortably. Soonyoung wisely avoided asking after the issue. 

“He said yes, but I have no fucking clue what to wear. It's just noraebang, can I just wear jeans and a sweater?” 

“No!” Wonwoo gasped, sounding like he'd been shot. “This is _important_ , Soonyoung, you can't ‘just wear jeans and a sweater’.” 

Soonyoung made a face, like he couldn't tell if he should be offended or not, and flung himself off the bed to look into his closet. “Okay, well, I have these new black skinny jeans that make my butt look-”

“Pics or it didn't happen.” 

“You know I can't send pictures with this phone, fuckwad. Just come over. Bring Mingyu if he's with you, too. I trust his fashion sense more than yours, honestly.” 

Mingyu crowed happily from the other side of the line, where he had clearly been listening in. “He's only 15, though,” Wonwoo complained. 

“You can't see me right now, but I'm rolling my eyes way into the back of my head.” 

“Fine. We’re on the way.” 

“Hurry up,” Soonyoung shouted, hoping to catch him before he hung up. “I have to be there at six!” 

The noraebang was in a quiet part of Seoul, tucked away back by the more residential section of the city. Soonyoung stood and waited out for for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, in his black skinny jeans and the white sweater Mingyu forced Wonwoo to let him wear. He fought back the urge to cry. Wen Junhui wasn't shit anyways. He didn't even want to go on a date with him. Soonyoung was a god and Junhui was- 

Late. He was almost a half hour late, and Soonyoung was hating himself more and more with every minute he had to stand outside a karaoke, waiting for a boy who probably wasn't going to show. He pulled out his phone to text Wonwoo the SOS.

“Soonyoung!” He whipped his head up and saw Junhui sprinting down the street, apologizing to ahjummas as he narrowly avoided them. “I’m so sorry,” he panted as he slowed to a walk and approached the blonde. “Something came up with my dad and… I'm really sorry I'm late. My parents are kind of a nightmare.” 

Soonyoung didn't want to give in. He wanted to turn his nose up and be angry that he hadn't received a call, and to just go home and cry into a tub of ice cream. But Junhui looked so genuinely apologetic and upset, his brown eyes warm and pleading, that Soonyoung couldn't hold the grudge. 

“It's okay. Don't worry about it, you're not too late.” Soonyoung flashed him an awkward smile. “Um, you want to go in?” 

Junhui nodded and held open the door for him, making him blush. _God_ , he thought to himself, _could I be any more of a girl?_

The room was the same as any other noraebang, same couch, same television, same cheap party lights. But tonight the room felt so much smaller, as if the air had been compressed out of it. _Fucking Junhui,_ Soonyoung thought, angry for no reason. _And this fucking crush._

Shyly, he held out the remote to Junhui. “You can pick the first song. I mean, if you want.” 

“Ah, alright,” Junhui said, taking it from him. Their fingertips brushed and Soonyoung pretended he didn't feel electricity, because he didn't live in a teenage girl novella and he wasn't a romantic cliche. God. 

The first strains of Girl’s Generation came through the speakers of the television, and Soonyoung looked up at Junhui from where he had been fiddling with his fingers. “I love SNSD,” he said, already beginning to dance to the beat on the couch. 

“I know,” Junhui said, smiling shyly at him. “Uh, Wonwoo told me.” 

The fact that Junhui had taken time to ask Wonwoo about him said more about Junhui than any amount of tardiness. The rest of Soonyoung’s irritation slipped away. “I know all the moves to this song, wanna see?” 

A nod from Junhui later and Soonyoung was kicking his metaphorical high heels. “Tell me your wish!” he sang, if not in key then at least in time with the beat. Junhui laughed, unhindered, bent at the waist to catch his breath. 

“I wanted to be Taeyeon so badly when I was in middle school,” Soonyoung confessed, when the song was over and they could speak without breaking into giggles again. “She’s like, a vocals queen.” 

Junhui shrugged. “She can’t dance half as well as you. I think it’s a good thing you’re not her. Plus, then you’d have a vagina.” Soonyoung snorted a surprise laugh out of his nose. Junhui side-eyed him, and said, “Hey, vaginas are scary.”

“This is true,” the blonde conceded. “They bleed for a week, and no one is concerned. That’s so wild.” 

“Why are we talking about this?” 

“You brought up the topic of vaginas! I was just offering my personal insights.” 

It took them another twenty minutes to calm down again.

~

Soonyoung fiddled with his notebook, bored. His seat in the front of the class, where he had been placed in punishment for talking too much, offered little to no entertainment, and he couldn’t care any less about the properties of a right triangle. His eyes began to open more slowly, and he was seconds away from letting his head drop to the desk when the classroom door opened and the principal entered. Soonyoung let out a string of curses in his head, but his train of thought was lost as soon as he saw the boy standing stiffly behind him. 

“Pardon me, but I have a new student,” Principal Song announced, ushering the boy forward. Soonyoung stared, transfixed, as the new student came into the classroom and bowed uncomfortably. “This is Wen Junhui, and he’s just moved here from China!” 

“Hello,” Junhui said, voice quiet and croaky. 

Mrs. Oh sighed, but greeted him and gestured to the only open seat in class, the third seat from the door in the front row - right next to Soonyoung. He hurriedly ripped out a piece of paper from his notebook and began scribbling. As soon as their teacher turned away and began droning about angles again, Soonyoung tossed the folded note onto Junhui’s desk. The new student glanced up, startled, but soon opened it. 

_Hello~~~ I’m Kwon Soonyoung! I’d say welcome to Korea and our school but I bet you’ve heard it a million times. So welcome to the seat next to mine!!! You’re in luck because Mrs. Oh is the most boring person to ever teach a high school class and I am the opposite of boring. Or so I’ve heard._

Soonyoung pointedly ignored the desk next to his in an attempt not to look if he would get a reply. For the first time all year, he tried to listen carefully to a trigonometry lecture, although whether or not he was successful was debatable. After some ten minutes, the slip of paper ended back on his desk. He tried to look too eager as he opened it. 

_Hello, I am Wen Junhui, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you, although I really do need to pay attention. Math is my worst subject._

_Mine, too, but that doesn’t stop me from falling asleep every day. Maybe if her voice was more exciting, it’d be easier to stay awake._

_She does have a very boring voice, but one of my professors in China had a voice so plain that he put an entire class, plus the principal, to sleep one lecture. I’m not lying._

_Damn, that’s a whole new level. Hey, do you wanna sit with me and my friends at lunch? It sucks being the new kid, I know. They’ll love you, I promise._

_That would be great. Thank you, I appreciate the offer very much._

_Aigoo, so formal._

“So, what, you think he’s cute or something?” Jeonghan whispered, as Soonyoung blushed for the nth time after Junhui laughed at his jokes. 

“No! Um, maybe. Okay, yes, look at his eyes, hyung, they’re so sparkly and beautiful.” 

“They’re… brown.” Soonyoung smacked his shoulder, hard enough for the sound to cause the rest of the table to look at them inquisitively. He smiled innocently and they turned back to their conversation. Jeonghan laughed at him. “Ah, you guys are going to get married. I can tell.” 

“We just met!” 

“I know these things, Soonyoung, trust me.” 

Soonyoung glanced at Junhui from across the table, catching his gaze. Quickly, they both looked away, heat rushing to their cheeks. After a moment, they both lifted their eyes and smiled shyly at each other. 

Two boys, from different backgrounds, different cultures, different lives, smiling across the lunch table at each other, neither aware of what was ahead for them. 

The Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Ages during the different sections  
> (they're almost the same age so the numbers apply to both of them!)  
> 72 - Soonyoung dies  
> 72 - S finds out about his cancer  
> 61 - Junhui's funeral  
> 61 - Junhui dies  
> 55ish - Younghee is born  
> 50 - Chan goes to California  
> 44 - Minghao graduates high school  
> 37ish - They have a fight (I mean more than once but like, this one is around this age)  
> 32 - Minghao starts school  
> 28 - Chan is adopted!!  
> 27 - They have a date night  
> 26 - Minghao is born (:  
> 25 - Junhui's parents :(  
> 25 - they meet Soojung  
> 25 - They R Newlyweds  
> 23 - THEY GET ENGAGED :D  
> 21-23 - they're in the military  
> 20 - group dinner  
> 16 - first date  
> 16 - They meet!


End file.
